Forbidden
by LaUrIsHa-just me
Summary: We always want what we can't have. There's another serial killer loose in New Orleans and the team has to catch him before it creates panic in the city. A dedicated detective with lots of drive goes along for the ride.
1. Frustration

**Forbidden**

"_Forbidden things have a secret charm". - Publius Cornelius Tacitus_

Chapter 1 – Frustration

'New Orleans has another serial killer in the loose,' said JJ with a grave voice. 'This unsub has killed four women in three weeks.'

'He targets females in their mid-twenties, waits for them to come home at night and strangles them with a scarf, usually belonging to the victim before mutilating them,' explained Prentiss, having already read the case file.

'Choosing the victims carefully and waiting for them to get home suggests an organized killer but taking a scarf from their own drawers and leaving it on the body is classical behavior of a disorganized killer,' Reid was puzzled by these mixed traits.

'Four murders in three week, the unsub is escalating,' Rossi pointed out.

'Wheels in ten, people,' ordered Hotch and they all split.

**Byron wrote****: "****What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth, as I am now."**

After reviewing the case a bit more on the plane, Hotch suggested they slept because they had some long days ahead of them. Three hours after boarding the aircraft, they arrived in New Orleans.

'Thanks for comin', we appreciate it,' the lead detective greeted them.

She was tall, average build and her hair was red. She was smartly dressed in beige pants, a green sleeveless blouse and beige riding boots and had an accent that was half Texan, half Yat.

'Detective O'Malley, I'm Agent Jareau, these are Agents Hotchner, Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss and Dr. Reid,' JJ shook her hand.

'Nice to meet you, you can set up over there,' the detective pointed to a conference room. 'Feel free to reorganize things as you like.'

'Thanks. This is a very rare case,' offered Rossi as he looked at the crime scene photos on the whiteboard.

'Tell me about it! He's half disorganized, half organized and completely brutal; who am I supposed to look for?'

'Mixed offenders are a bit harder to profile,' after speaking, Reid realized the detective had some knowledge of criminal profiling.

'We should focus on victimology first, is there any common pattern between the victims?' Hotch got them on track.

'One blonde, one brunette, one redhead, one black; this guy tried it all,' said Emily.

'They're all the same age, though,' observed Morgan.

'Yeah but they share no physical traits and for what little information I've gathered, their lives didn't cross,' the cop was definitely frustrated.

'You haven't looked for any connections between the victims?' JJ was surprised; this was basic.

'We're understaffed, Agent Jareau. I should be workin' on three more cases now. I checked adresses, workplaces, usual hang outs but nothin' came up that suggests they ever crossed paths,' the local woman explained.

'We should get Garcia,' Reid spoke up and called the analyst. 'Garcia, this is Reid. We need you to check and see if the victims have anything in common; if they went to the same grocery store, jogged in the same park ...'

'No luck, my chums. They didn't frequent the same spots, live in the same part of town, go to the same stores or share anything besides being killed by the same wacko,' informed the computer tech in her usual style.

'You sure baby girl? Not even the same phone company?' inquired Morgan.

'Nope. Trisha Hopkins had AT&T coverage, Delia Johnson used Deltacom, Linda Dubois had her cell phone with Cavalier and Jane Burke prefered Verizon.'

'Garcia, can you keep digging?' asked Hotch.

'Sure thing, boss. I'll let you know if I find anything, hasta la vista my friends,' she disconnected the call.

'The only common thread in victimology is the age,' Rossi reminded everyone.

'Does the public know about this?' asked JJ suddenly.

'No, there hasn't been any media coverage. No one knows what's goin' on,' the detective answered.

'Well, they have to,' announced the media liaison.

'He's targetin' everyone! Do you really wanna create that kind of panic?'

'The unsub's targeting a certain _age range_, these women have to know,' explained Emily.

'Oh, and you think they are the only ones who'll get the message? Every woman in New Orleans will panic and feel threatened, no matter her age.'

'She has a point, JJ,' Hotch acknowledged.

'Maybe it's a bit soon, seeing as we don't have any more connections,' she conceded.

'Maybe that's about to change; another body has been found,' informed Detective O'Malley after her phone buzzed. 'And Agent Jareau: the press is all over it.'

'How did they find out?' wondered Rossi.

'This time the victim was left in front of The Superdome.'

'Does it have a special significance?' asked Reid.

'It holds sportin' events, concerts, shows, conventions, tradeshows, it was a shelter during Katrina, it's near the Interstate and it's kinda in the City Hall's backyard,' explained the detective. '_You_ figure out the significance. Anyone comin' to the dump site with me?'

'Morgan and Rossi, you take it,' Hotch gave the order. 'JJ, could you get started with a press release?'

'Already on it,' said the blonde as everyone got back to work.

'Well, it's definitely a public place,' sentenced Rossi once at the scene.

'No kiddin',' said Detective O'Malley sarcastically after pushing through the crowd that had gathered. 'Rogers, I want a second perimeter; get everyone as far as you can.'

'The mutilation's worse with this one. I can see the organs and she was probably raped,' commented Morgan.

'That's a first. There was no sign of sexual assault with the other victims,' said the woman.

'The unsub's getting more brutal and more confident, hopefully he'll make a mistake,' reflected the old FBI agent.

'Let's try to stop him at this one, a'right? I don't want a sixth woman slashed on my watch,' the detective urged them.

'When can we get an ID?' asked Morgan.

'CSU has already printed her, we just need her to be in a database.'

'Good, we can go back to the station now,' Rossi informed her.

'A fax came while you were gone, the victim was identified as Casey Broussard. Our technical analyst is trying to link her to the other victims,' Emily told the detective and her two colleagues when they got back.

'Good. How did we find her?' asked Det. O'Malley.

'She was booked after too many parking tickets,' Garcia's voice came from the phone.

'Ah, our beautiful legal system,' the redhead was pensieve. 'Miss Garcia, could you check the records of the other victims and see if any of them had a parkin' ticket?'

'Sure thing,' she answered while typing furiously.

'Why did you ask?' JJ was curious.

'I think I saw a parkin' ticket while searchin' one of the crime scenes but I don't know ...' the detective looked really lost.

'Our southern detective was right. Delia Johnson received a parking ticket two days before her death.'

'And what about the rest?' Morgan spoke up.

'Sorry, hot stuff but none of the other victims ever received a parking ticket. Jane Burke didn't even have a driving license, she never finished the driving lessons. Tech kitten out,' she hung up.

'That's one more thing in common but it's not enough,' said Emily.

'We still don't have enough links between the victims to advance in the investigation,' Reid made himself heard.

'What are we missing?' demanded Hotch.

'We're dealing with a highly intelligent unsub who can throw us off track,' Rossi piped in.

'Yeah, but it's almost as if there were two unsubs,' Detective O'Malley was troubled.

'It _could_ be one unsub with two personalities,' suggested Prentiss.

'No, the murders are too neat and controlled,' Hotch rejected the idea.

'Maybe we're looking for a partnership. The dominating personality's the organized, the submissive the disorganized,' Morgan spoke up.

'But then the dominating one would insist on having a murder weapon and taking it with them,' Rossi pointed out. 'He wouldn't let the kill on the hands of the submissive one.'

'Besides, we don't have any evidence to prove there's a partnership,' said the detective.

'Maybe we do,' Reid pointed to the crime scene pictures. 'These shoe prints in the Hopkins' and Johnson's crime scenes are the same size and tread but they could have a different wear pattern. The investigators could miss it due to all the blood. Can they look again?'

'Sure, I'll tell 'em to check out the shoe prints again,' the detective made the call.

Ten minutes later her phone rang again. 'You were right, Dr. Reid. We're lookin' for a partnership, then.'

'The wear pattern is different but the weight distribution's the same,' he added.

'So?' the detective didn't understand.

'It's a forensic countermeasure,' explained Emily.

'Get your people together, we have a profile,' said Hotch with a deep voice.

* * *

_Okay, so here starts another project. Welcome aboard! I have to thank **Unknown-Bliss** for being a great beta. I'll be updating every two or three weeks average, maybe a month. That said; leave a review with comments, suggestions, constructive criticism, opinions, etc. Thanks and ... hope to read you soon._


	2. Fashion Conscious

Chapter 2 – Fashion Conscious

In fifteen minutes every cop in the precinct had gathered and was listening carefully and taking notes.

'We're looking for a white man in his mid-forties who is highly intelligent,' started Hotch.

'He'll have a menial job for which he thinks he's overqualified and that will frustrate him,' continued Morgan.

'Due to the extreme level of violence in his crimes, it's likely he has regular violent outbursts. So look for somebody with complaints against him citing aggressiveness,' Prentiss intervened.

'His victims all have different ethniticities, different hair color and size, they come from several socio-economic backgrounds and lived in various parts of town. The only thing they have in common is age,' Morgan paused to draw breath. 'There's something about women between 25 and 29 that makes this unsub angry.'

'It could be a girlfriend that dumped him, a neighbor that's too loud, a sister that gets in trouble often; we don't know. But we do know that a woman in this age range was the stressor and the age is what's significant to the unsub,' explained Hotch.

'According to the geographical profile he hasn't killed anyone from the French or American Quarter. He may live in the Central Business District, you should start there,' added Reid.

'He's devolving quite fast and the fact that he committed necrophilia with the last victim tells us that killing is not giving him a release anymore. Work quickly,' Rossi finished the profile.

'Just one more thing,' JJ spoke. 'By dumping the last victim in a very public place the media was brought into this case. I urge you not to have any contact with reporters since it could jeopardize the investigation. This profile is being released to the public in ten minutes; let us handle it.'

'You heard the FBI agents,' detective O'Malley gave her co-workers a sharp look. 'Jimmy: you, Tom and Rick look into any complaints in which the complainant was a woman in her mid-twenties.'

'Where? In our great archives section?' said Rick sarcastically, making everyone laugh.

'This probably happened in the last six months, right?' she looked at the profilers for confirmation. 'We have those files. So get your ass outta that chair and start readin'. And the rest of you start canvassin' the CBD.'

The cops got up and left to do what they'd been assigned.

'Katrina destroyed every file we had,' she explained to the agents.

'We know,' said Reid.

'So what do we do while they search?' asked the detective.

'We keep working. Victimology is still sketchy,' said Hotch.

'Is there another angle from which to look at it? Your analyst has digged through their lives without findin' anythin'.'

'There _has_ to be something else,' Emily told her.

'We just have to find it,' finished Morgan.

'You've got wonderful press in New Orleans,' JJ stormed into the conference room. 'The profile is out, by the way.'

'Yeah, they're charmin'. Hope you gave 'em hell,' replied the redhead.

'I think I came pretty close,' the blonde gave the other woman a self-satisfied smile.

'We have to focus. What is it that we're missing?' Rossi stood up and walked to the whiteboard to see everything closer. He was as puzzled as everyone else.

'Well, while you profile, I'll talk to the families again,' Detective O'Malley took the pictures of the murder weapons off the whiteboard and took them with her.

Forty five minutes later she came back with a grin.

'Found a lead, detective?' wondered Morgan.

'Maybe. The murder weapons,' she placed the photos on the table.

'They were the victim's,' JJ didn't understand where she was going. Nobody did.

'That's what we thought. But, after talkin' again with their loved ones I found out that only Trisha Hopkins was strangled with her own scarf,' the cop informed them.

'That's not exactly a lead,' Reid pointed out.

'But it's another piece of the puzzle. The scarfs have a significance. And I'm thinkin' somethin' 'bout Trisha Hopkins wearin' that scarf was what set everythin' off,' the detective shared her point of view.

'Prentiss: you and Morgan call Garcia to see if someone purchased many scarfs recently and try to find any similiarities between them,' ordered Hotch.

'Similiarities between them? They're scarves!' Reid spoke up.

'They were the _murder weapons_; they mean somethin',' the detective's voice raised a few indignant tones.

'That theory is diverting attention from the real problem: victimology. It's still important,' there was a patronizing tone in the young agent's voice.

'Well, we've hit a dead end with victimology,' Rossi tried to mediate.

'We just have to think outside the box,' the genius answered back.

'That was what I was tryin' to do!' O'Malley piped in.

'Great work, detective,' said the youngest profiler ironically.

'Reid!' Hotch chastised him.

'Well, I may be a Texan workin' in New Orleans but that doesn't mean I'm a religious nut cowgirl who practises voodoo and can outdrink all of you. I'm not a hick and there's a reason I was made detective. You don't have to respect me but at least respect the badge,' there was harshness in her voice. 'I'll go see if my guys have anythin'.'

'Detective,' Hotch tried to intervene but she left the room. He then directed his words to his co-worker. 'What was that?'

Reid raised his hands in defense.

Ten minutes later Detective O'Malley was back.

'Nothin' came up in the canvassin',' she paused briefly. 'By the way, I'm sorry, Dr. Reid. I was outta line. But I'm gettin' a bit desperate.'

'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be harsh, you're doing your job,' he apologized too.

'No credit card purchases for many scarves,' Morgan got off the phone with Garcia.

'But there's something they all have in common: they're cheap, they're worn for fashion reasons because they aren't meant to keep you warm _and_ only one store sells them,' concluded Prentiss.

'Any connections with the victims?' asked Rossi.

'No. And I gave the girl at the register the profile but she said she didn't remember anyone like that,' Prentiss was sorry she didn't have any more information.

'What's the store?' the detective wanted to know.

'Leather & Lace.'

'Is it significant?' Reid was curious.

'Strippers in gentlemen's clubs wear those in winter as a sort of "winter uniform". Leather & Lace is the official supplier,' explained Detective O'Malley.

'So something happened in winter with a stripper in her mid-twenties that set off our unsub,' Hotch joined all the leads they had.

'But what?' JJ asked the million dollar question.

'I'll call the store and ask for their sales records. We need to know what club purchased red scarves,' the detective motioned to Emily to give her the phone number.

'And what about the other colors?' asked Morgan.

'Trisha Hopkins, the first victim, was wearing a red scarf. And since it was a different fabric; the color is the key,' Hotch had followed the detective's reasoning. 'Ask Garcia to find those records and crosscheck it with any stripper from those clubs that was involved in a criminal investigation.'

'Queen of the cyberworld, who deigns to intrude in my kingdom?' Garcia greeted them.

'We need you to get the sales records of a store called Leather & Lace and find out which strip club bought red scarves during the holiday season,' Rossi passed on the information.

'That would be two clubs that bought red scarves from the NC-17 store.'

'Garcia, crossreference the club's employees with any criminal complaint in the past six months,' asked Reid.

'I have four. One accused a patron of sexual harassment outside the club, another was indicted of petty larceny, the third one filed charges against her abusive boyfriend and the last one is doing time after killing a little boy while she was getting driving lessons. Apparently she was distracted fixing her scarf and didn't see the boy crossing the street. Her instructor is free, though,' the analyst read the records on her screen.

'What's the name of the instructor?' asked Hotch.

'John Burbane. Works for Mach 5 Driving School.'

'Can you see if any of the victims went to that driving school?'

'They don't have a computer apparently but from some sketchy records ... all of them,' Garcia's voice brought them the missing link.

'That's it. Thanks, Mama. Can you give us an adress?' Morgan ended the call after receiving the information.

In fifteen minutes they were at John Burbane's building. They separated into pairs, making sure they covered all the exits.

'John Burbane, this is the FBI,' yelled Morgan before kicking in the door. He and Hotch started searching the place, Rossi, Prentiss and the couple of NOPD's detectives right behind them.

Hotch was the one to find the killer when he opened the door to the attic.

'FBI! Hands on top of your head, come out slowly,' ordered the Unit Chief.

The man, a fat guy in his mid-forties, offered no resistance and did as he was told. When he had descended the small stairs Detective O'Malley cuffed him and read him his rights.

'Detective Leger here will take you to the station,' she told him before adressing her co-worker. 'Jimmy, do you mind?'

'No prob. Flower. I'll take good care of this trash,' the other detective took the criminal to the patrol car.

'Guys, you need to see this,' screamed Morgan from the bedroom. When everyone approached they saw what the FBI agent had in his hand: four more scarves.

Having already apprehended the suspect, they went back to the station.

'Agent Hotchner, is it common for a guy like this to confess? He was supposed to be highly intelligent,' Detective O'Malley shared her doubts with the Unit Chief. 'Jimmy said he started singin' in the car and he's puttin' it on paper now. Seems he felt really guilty about his student the stripper killin' that boy and started killin' women that reminded him of her.'

'Men like Burbane, although highly intelligent, are very arrogant. They need to share what they've done with the world so that they can be admired,' he explained.

'Of course. He's a man; it _has_ to be the ego,' she rolled her eyes.

The FBI agents and the detective went back to the conference room to put everything away. Detective Leger came in a minute later to tell them that Burbane was already on a cell, awaiting trial after his confession.

'Umm, guys, there's a slight problem,' JJ bit her lip. 'We won't be able to leave til tomorrow. Apparently the pilot wasn't expecting us to finish so soon and he got drunk so we can't fly tonight.'

'This is New Orleans, after all,' commented Detective O'Malley.

'You should do the same,' advised Leger.

The profilers were thinking of very creative ways to kill the pilot before they realized that Detective Leger was right. They were in the Big Easy and they might as well enjoy it. After all, they had the whole night free.

'What did you have in mind?' Morgan, always up for a party was the first one to accept.

'We'll hit a few bars and then go to a club, what do you say?' the male detective spoke excitedly. He was really fond of drinking.

'I'm in,' Prentiss joined too and everyone agreed they'd go.

'You too, right Flower?' Leger asked his co-worker.

'I'll babysit, just finish puttin' everythin' away and lemme go change,' she left for the locker room.

'Flower?' Reid was curious as to why the nickname.

'First name's Violette. Like the flower, in french,' explained the detective.

When everything was in its place Detective O'Malley came back, dressed more casual. 'You ready to check out our nightlife?' she asked.

Truth was that after such a tiring case, they were all glad to relax a little. And what was better than hitting some bars in a city famous for the amount of alcohol the citizens ingested? Last time they'd been in New Orleans they'd left right away. Now it was time to see another side of the city. The famous one that attracted tourists, not the gruesome side. They'd had enough with the violence.

* * *

_Is anybody there? If someone's reading this, do leave a review with your opinions, comments, suggestions, etc. I'd really appreciate some feedback._

**Thanks to Unknown-Bliss for being a good beta.**_  
_


	3. Laissez les bon temps rouler

Chapter 3 – Laissez les bon temps rouler

They stopped first at a bar where they had a few drinks before going to a club nearby.

'This is Onyx, the second hottest club in town,' explained Leger pointing to a building to his right with a very long line. 'But we're going to Kazoo right there in the corner.'

'No we're not, Jimmy,' Detective O'Malley confidently walked to Onyx's entrance and everyone followed. 'You got room for us eight, Ollie?'

'There's always room for you, girl. But you sure grandpa over there wants in?' he was talking about Rossi.

'You know the rule; _tout ou rien_. Can we come in or not?'

'Sure thing. Say hi to Matt, he's been asking about you,' the bouncer stamped each of them and let them in.

'Flower, how did you manage to get us into one of the hottest clubs in the city and why didn't we do it before?' Leger was amazed.

'Know the owner. And you know I'm not a party girl.'

The music was loud and upbeat and everyone was dancing.

'Makes me feel so old,' said Rossi as a couple of young girls wearing really short skirts walked by.

'You _are_ old,' Morgan patted his back and went to the dance floor.

Reid got separated from the group as he went to look for a table, Rossi was right behind him while the rest of the team approached the bar for a drink.

There were two bartenders: one was bald, middle-aged and wore a black T-shirt while the other one was in his mid-thirties, handsome and smartly dressed.

'What does a girl have to do here to get a drink?' Detective O'Malley spoke to the youngest bartender.

'Sleep with the owner,' he flashed a big bright smile. 'What can I get ya?'

'My friends here would like to try your Hurricanes and I'd like an Orange Whip.'

The man expertly fixed the drinks, stealing subtle glances at the group of people in front of him. Emily and JJ were talking to the detective and laughing as Hotch waited silently, his eyes never leaving their drinks unattended.

'Here you go, two Hurricanes for the pretty ladies and one for the serious guy. _And_ your Whip,' he winked after the last sentence.

They took their drinks, the girls leaving for the dance floor and Hotch for the table.

After pushing a few dozens of people they got to where Morgan was dancing. JJ forced Reid to get up and join them. The only ones who didn't dance were Hotch, Rossi and Leger, who was too busy trying to pick up some blonde ten years younger than him. Two songs later, Detective O'Malley joined Hotch at the table.

'What happened to Rossi?' she asked.

'Went for another drink. Can you hear yourself think with this loud music?' he winced as the song reached its loudest stage.

'No, that's kinda the point,' she smiled and looked at some empty glasses that were on the table. 'You wanna get outta here?'

Hotch nodded and they went out, the detective sending a text message to her partner saying that the Unit Chief was with her and he'd be back at the hotel for departure. They walked to a coffee shop a few blocks away.

'Whenever I drink I feel the need to get the alcohol out of my system as soon as I can,' she paid, refusing his money. 'This is on me.'

'You only had a couple of drinks,' he pointed out, taking his coffee from the counter.

'Alcohol doesn't sit well with me, too much lack of control.'

They walked silently to a pier.

'Café au lait and beignets by the ocean; that's New Orleans, not serial killers,' she sighed.

'Serial killers are everywhere but certainly not this view,' he was taken aback by the ocean and the light of the beacons.

'That's NOLA for ya,' she smiled proudly.

They talked for a long time, enjoying the view and the food.

'These are pretty good,' said Hotch as he ate the last bit of beignet.

'Can't stop eating 'em and they're makin' me fat,' she handed him a napkin.

'No, they're not,' he subtly ran his eyes over her body. She pretended she hadn't noticed, she pretended it hadn't sent a shiver up her spine. Detective O'Malley shivered and he started taking off his sweater.

'Don't. We don't want our precious FBI agent catchin' a cold,' she joked to divert his attention from her blush. Truth was, she hadn't shuddered from the cold but from his eyes examining her.

'You sure you don't want it?'

'I'm fine, thanks.'

'You haven't asked, I'm impressed,' he broke the silence that had formed.

'Ask what?'

'Ask me to profile you.'

'Well, we had to focus on the case.'

'What about now? We _solved_ it.'

'But I'm not sure I really wanna know,' she confessed. 'I'm gonna hear it anyway, aren't I? There's a reason you brought it up.'

'You're the youngest child, the only girl and your parents always praised your brothers but not you. They always pushed you to be the best, the strongest and that's why you're a strict over-achiever with high expectations of yourself and everyone else. You've got self-destructive tendencies that made you a cop and led you to stay in New Orleans after Katrina hit but you don't abuse substances because you hate losing control,' he drew breath. 'You got mad with Reid because you don't like people assuming things or believing in stereotypes so you spend your life not trying to fit in any category. That's also why you're a good leader: you respect and understand the people around you and treat them fairly.'

Hotch paused for a second before continuing. 'You have a great deal of respect for authority and the chain of command and you abide by certain values which suggest a very strict Catholic upbringing. Yet, you don't display any religious symbols or traditions. That tells me you don't believe in God even though your parents raised you a good Catholic girl,' he stopped briefly and she interrupted him.

'Can you believe in God after all we see?'

'Can I continue?'

'By all means, I apologize.'

'You are a very private person who avoids giving too much information and as I speak you're getting more and more uncomfortable because you know I'm right. That leads me to another personality trait: you escape from getting hurt and that is why you don't let anyone close enough. You're still very caring and worry about everyone, you just don't let anyone return the favor. How did I do?'

'Pretty good. But my self-destructive tendencies aren't the only reason I became a cop. And I was livin' in Dallas when Katrina hit. I moved here August 30th.'

'Of course not, seeing that your parents preferred your brothers made you develop a strong sense of justice.'

'It's sad, y'know? And scary to hear some of your flaws from someone who doesn't really know you but at the same time does,' she admitted.

'But you wanted to know anyway, makes me think you have a slight masochistic streak.'

'That, I do,' she smiled. 'Now, I know I'm not a profiler but can I give it a try? It's only fair.'

He didn't say anything, tacitly approving.

'You're the first-born and had to take care of your brother, probably due to one or both parents dying or being negligent. Therefore, you always had a lot of power and developed a strong sense of responsibility. Those early experiences made you become the great boss and leader you are now. When the weather is good you let Agent Rossi take the lead but when things go wrong you assume full responsibility and take charge,' she paused for a second. 'You expect nothin' but the best from the people around you and those high expectations lead you to disappointment quite often. Still, you demand excellence 'cause you know they're capable of it. You, Agent Hotchner, are a very passionate man and strongly defend what you believe in. However, you rarely ever let your feelings take hold; you're a cool, calculatin' and very collected man. After all you've seen on the job you forgot how to smile and why you'd want to do it in the first place but you just can't quit. You're a workaholic and I'm guessing that's what cost you your marriage. How did I do?'

'How do you know I have a brother?'

'You have a slight bias against women and you don't trust us as much. If you had a sister you'd respect us much more, some of us could even manipulate you,' she grinned.

'That was quite good,' he acknowledged, surprised. 'But I'm still married.'

'Are you really? Well, even if not as many taxpayer's dollars were used to train me, they taught me to notice the details.'

'It's more than noticing the details, you analyze them. You could work with us, Meghan, be a good profiler,' he paused briefly. 'I'm wearing my ring, how could you miss that?'

'I didn't miss it, but a marriage can be over before it's legally over. I think you've drank too much, Hotchner,' she half-smiled.

'We could use someone like you at the BAU, just think about it. The academy starts in January.'

'I was taught people aren't used; they're loved, hated, tolerated or cared for but they aren't used. Besides, I'm good in New Orleans. I like it here,' there wasn't much conviction in her voice.

'When you realize it's not true and you want out, join the FBI. We'll be waiting for you.'

'What makes you think I want out?'

'You always run.'

'It's late, you should be gettin' back,' Detective O'Malley stood up, smoothing down her dress. It didn't take a profiler to know she was uneasy.

They walked in silence for a few blocks.

'Look, um, your team is probably waitin' for you so … I just wanna say thank you. Thanks for comin' and helpin' us. Whenever New Orleans needed you, your team was here; we really appreciate it.'

'We do everything we can. We can't always help everybody but we try. You have JJ's number for future reference.'

They got to the hotel and as expected, the rest of the team was waiting in the lobby for Hotch.

'Thought you were staying here with Detective O'Malley,' joked Rossi.

'We don't have as many benefits as you Feds but I'm sure it could be arranged,' she smiled. 'I'll be drivin' some of you to the airport so follow me.'

'We walked here, how are you going to …?' asked Hotch.

'Got Jimmy to drop my car in the parkin' lot earlier this morning,' she smirked.

Emily, JJ and Morgan got into her Hummer while the others got into another car.

'Nice wheels,' Morgan whistled appreciatively.

'You like this car?' Detective O'Malley scrunched up her nose.

'If you don't, then why did you buy it?' Emily fastened her seatbelt.

'Comes in handy in the swamp with all the water and mud. Besides, it's assembled in Louisiana.'

'Ah, state pride! Thought you were from Texas,' Morgan was curious.

'It's not where you're from but what you consider home,' spoke JJ.

'Home's where the heart is. You look like you know what I'm talkin' 'bout,' the detective glanced at the blonde from the rearview mirror.

'I should come here for my holidays, it's beautiful,' said Emily as she looked through the window, breaking the silence that had formed.

'Let me know when you're comin' to town and I'll show you around.'

'I'll take you up on that offer too, wanna check out some more clubs,' Morgan joined in on the conversation.

'Sure, I can get you in the hottest clubs. Just give me a call.'

'Oooh! You a party girl, detective?' he teased her.

'No, I just know lots of people 'round here,' she shrugged.

'Is that how you got us into Onyx last night?' asked JJ.

'I know the owner, yes,' she fidgeted a bit.

'He's the guy that danced with you, right?' the brunette spoke up.

'Yeah, Matt Perrineaux.'

'He still your boyfriend?' asked Morgan.

'Are we playin' twenty questions or somethin'?' the detective's voice rose a few decibels. 'He was my boyfriend a long time ago, now we're just friends.'

'Sorry, just curious. 'Cause the way he looked at you …'

'Morgan!' Emily chastised him.

'Doesn't matter. As long as you know the owners, you'll be seeing us soon,' JJ smiled.

Both cars got to the airport.

'Thanks for the ride,' Morgan took their bags from the trunk.

'No prob. T'was a pleasure workin' with you,' the detective shook hands with the agents and exchanged the usual pleasantries before they boarded the plane.

'So, Reid, Detective O'Malley offered to show us around and take us to clubs the next time we're in town,' Morgan relayed the message after take off.

'Hopefully there won't be another unsub and we won't come back,' he answered.

'Speak for yourself, I'm coming back to do some sightseeing. Especially if she's going to be my guide,' said Rossi from two seats to the left.

That was odd. They all knew Rossi was a ladies man but he'd never made any comments like that, and definitely not about a detective they'd worked with.

'I don't understand what being a tourist has to do with detective O'Malley's participation,' Reid was puzzled.

'She was nice, Spencer,' explained JJ tactfully.

'And very pretty,' added Morgan. 'Don't tell me you didn't notice.'

'I – umm … was she?' the oblivious genius blushed.

'You know, for a Special Agent you aren't very observant sometimes,' Emily smiled.

'I was concentrating on the case and finding the unsub,' he answered back.

'Well, concentrating didn't make any of us blind,' Rossi pointed out. 'You should notice the beauty around you. Don't you agree, Hotch?'

'Yeah, sure,' he kept his eyes on the paperwork he was doing.

'See? Even Hotch noticed,' commented Rossi.

'What's that supposed to mean?' the Unit Chief looked up briefly at the older man.

'That you're married and don't really look at women,' explained Morgan.

Aaron Hotchner remained silent. Apparently his colleagues thought he didn't care much about women. Truth was, that even though he was married, he looked at other women. Although he would have never done anything because he loved and respected his wife, he was still a man. Therefore, pretty women caught his eye. At that moment, recently separated, he wasn't looking for a relationship but he had realized that Meghan O'Malley was a very beautiful woman.

Half an hour later, most of the agents were taking a nap after barely getting any sleep that morning. But Hotch and Rossi were still awake. The oldest man took a seat in front of his boss.

'You aren't getting any sleep?' he asked.

'I'm not tired.'

'You sure? We all managed to doze off for a few hours except you. Unless our southern detective made you nap, of course,' he commented slyly, pulling one of his trademark smirks.

'No, we just had breakfast,' Hotch was as terse and laconic as usual.

'Quite a long breakfast you had. You must have left the club at two thirty and came back near six.'

'What are you trying to say, Dave?'

'That you should think about dating.'

'I'm married,' he shook his head.

'I know you still love Haley but don't waste an opportunity with a woman who can make you happy because of that. That's all I'm saying.'

'Thanks for the advice.'

'For the record, I think you have a chance with that red-haired beauty. And if you spent three hours and a half with her just having breakfast, you know that too,' he stood up and looked for a seat where he could have a comfortable nap, leaving Hotch to think.

That was Rossi, always so straight-forward and so obnoxiously right. He made you face all those issues you'd rather leave behind. Deep down, Hotch _knew_ that he found her alluring. Her skills weren't the only reason he'd invited her to join the team. However, he also knew that she was younger than him and probably interested in that guy from the club, not to mention the last thing on his mind at that moment was getting involved with someone. He did what he always did: rationalize things away and forget about them. It was better that way.

"**Nothing is more costly, nothing is more sterile, than vengeance". – Sir Winston Churchillkay,**

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**_O__kay, guys, this is how it works: if this story doesn't get at least ONE review, it doesn't matter how many story alerts there are, I'm **not posting another chapter again**._ **I need your feedback!**_ I want to know your opinion; if it sucks, tell me so._**  
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